


Anno Primo, Anno Secundus by MJ

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Holiday: xmas, M/M, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:11:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim angst (minor) and Blair wowies. It is a year after the boys became a couple and stuff happens.<br/>This story is a sequel to Illuminations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anno Primo, Anno Secundus by MJ

**Author's Note:**

> A seasonal thing inspired by...well, read it. The latin in the title is sort of a double meaning.

## Anno Primo, Anno Secundus

by MJ

Author's disclaimer: They are mine..oops, no, not mine. Only borrowed them. Put them back. Honest. Plot's all mine though.

* * *

Anno Primo, Anno Secundus 

By MJ 

Blair stared out of the sliding door, a soft smile on his face. A secret smile, a joy that refused to be ignored. A Mona Lisa smile. He understood that phrase now. A joy held close, not shared but that managed to leak out, through eyes and the curve of lips. A warmth that filled him. He tried to control his mouth, to prevent the smile from getting bigger. It was truly a battle. He murmured into the cell phone pressed against his left ear, "That sounds great. Great." 

Above him, just coming down the stairs from the loft bedroom, Jim saw Blair's face reflected in the glass of the balcony door. There it was again, that smile. A smile that hid secrets. And he wondered, what secrets? Who is he talking to? 

As he descended, his reflection appeared in the door glass. Blair suddenly noticed, jumping slightly. The younger man whirled. 

"Oh, ah, hey Jim. Didn't hear you." The eyes were blinking behind the glasses but not looking directly at Jim. "Ah. I'll just be .". He spoke into the phone. "I'll be there right after supper, ok? Great. See you." Blair disconnected and set the phone on its stand on the bookcase. "Supper's almost ready, Jim. I'll set the table." He darted into the kitchen and started getting dishes out. 

Jim stared for a moment before moving to the fridge. "What do you want to drink, Chief? Beer?" 

"Ah no, man, going out after and I need a clear head. Got any of that unfiltered sweet cider?" 

Jim glanced in the fridge. "Right. So where you going? University thing?" 

Blair was serving the pasta and sauce and didn't look up. "What? Oh, Uni? Yah, at the university. How much sauce do you want?" 

Jim could hear Blair's heart beating faster than normal. Another check and the sweat levels were up too. His lover was nervous about something. "Usual amount, Chief. So who are you meeting?" He set the jug of cider on the table along with a beer for himself. 

"Just some friends. A project, you know?" Blair carried the plates to the table. "Can you get the garlic bread from the oven?" 

"Got it. Going to be late?" He didn't add 'again'. 

"No, I don't think so. But don't wait up for me. By the way, you know that fishing rod you mentioned." 

The rest of the meal was taken up with Blair chatting about fishing rods, fishing trips and his aboriginal fishing spear. The younger man leapt up as they finished and carried his dishes into the kitchen. 

"Gotta go. I am so going to be late. If you want, leave the dishes to dry themselves and I'll put them away when I get back." Blair grabbed his jacket and raced out the door before Jim could say anything else. 

The Sentinel washed and dried the dishes and put them away. Leaving them in the drainer offended his sense of order and truth be told, he did not mind taking care of them by himself. 

There was a Jags game on TV and he settled in to watch it. After a half hour, he felt out of sorts and realized it was not having Blair there to share comments on the game. The unease was a feeling getting too familiar. In the last week, Blair had been out four times. Almost back to the pattern before he and Jim had become lovers last Christmas. 

Jim knew the initial glow and passion of new love would not remain as the two of them settled into their relationship. It was simply that these frequent absences burst out of the blue. He shook his head. Maybe the honeymoon was over and Blair didn't need to spend all his free time with his Sentinel. The young man did have many friends at the university and he also had obligations as the junior member of the Anthropology faculty. It was just that the evenings were so slow without Blair. 

Shivering at the chill there seemed to be in the loft, Jim pulled the throw from the back of the couch over his body and concentrated on the game. 

* * *

The next morning, Jim awoke to find Blair's side of the bed still empty. Extending his hearing he located the familiar heartbeat downstairs, steady in its sleep rhythm. Why was his Guide, his lover down there? He rose, grabbed his robe and padded down, noting idly that there had been a light fall of snow over night. The first of the season. 

The door to Blair's old room, designated the office and Blair's clothing storage since he and Blair became lovers, was partly open. He peered in. The only bits of Blair showing were the top of his head, hair all wild, and one socked foot. The rest was hidden under the comforter. Jim stepped close to the bed. Soft snoring. The Sentinel smiled at the sound. A deep breath to gather in the Guide's scent. 

What was that? 

Another inhalation. It was . an unknown cologne and.and the scent of another man? 

Jim froze rock still, blinking slightly and then moved in a daze out into the kitchen area. Without conscious thought, he turned the coffee perk on and went to take a shower. As he washed, his mind ran over what he had on his schedule for the day, where he had the snow brush for the truck and whether he had time to pick up his dry cleaning on the way in. 

By the time he was dry and back in his robe, Jim could hear that Blair was up and moving around in the kitchen. He padded down the hallway and headed for his bedroom to dress. As he passed the kitchen, Blair murmured something sleepily to him that came out as 'orning' and wandered into the bathroom. 

When he came down again, dressed for the day, Blair was just emerging from the bathroom, steam swirling into the cooler air of the rest of the loft. A towel rode low on his lover's hips and threatened to slide right down. Blair kept hitching it up with one hand, the other trying to rubbing through his hair. The younger man was now fully awake. 

"Hey, Jim. Sorry, my turn to make breakfast. You should have woken me." 

Jim was busy scrambling the eggs Blair had taken out of the refrigerator. " 's all right. What time did you get in? You didn't come up to bed." 

"Nah, didn't want to wake you. It was way later than I thought I would be. Just crashed in the old room." A chuckle. "I forgot how lumpy that bed is. Man, how did I manage to get any rest in there?! I'll just go get dressed. You wanted to be in early today, right?" 

There was this nagging question but Jim could not say the words. "Yah, got that special security briefing Simon wants me to attend with him. You too, Chief, if you can be there." 

"Oh sure, nothing to do at the Uni this week." Blair darted through the french doors. As he dressed, he asked, "So, Christmas, we doing the big meal with the gang here again?" 

Jim raised his voice to be heard. "Megan asked me that yesterday. I told her I would have to check with you but that I thought we would." 

Blair came back into the main room of the loft. "Sure. Was fun last year. We have time to get it organized. I'll take care of that, ok?" He sat down at the table with the plate of eggs Jim handed him. 

"Ok." Jim sat down bringing his own meal and a plate of toast. He sipped at his juice before asking, "So, ah, that project you were doing all finished?" 

"What, oh, no. Not quite." 

"I thought you had nothing at the university this week?" He watched Blair's face while he ate. 

"Umm, I meant class work. That's over. Exams all marked and entered in the departmental system." Blair bent over his plate scooping the mounds of scrambled eggs into his mouth, peering at Jim through his lashes. 

Jim nodded and finished up his toast. "Got to get on the road, Chief. Snowed last night and all the drivers in town will be acting as if they never saw snow before." Jim cleaned up his dishes and got his coat off the rack by the door. 

"Oh, man, you have got that right. What is it about winter that makes people block the last one out of their memories? Oh, yeah. The cold, the damp, the ice. Right." Blair rinsed his dishes and hurried to get his coat. He found his backpack on the couch where he had dropped it last night. "I am ready to face it. Let's go!" 

"Ah, Chief. You sure?" He glanced at Blair's feet. "Bit wet and cold for sock feet." 

Blair stared at his feet. "Oh, yeah. Just a sec." and he ran into his former bedroom. He all but disappeared into the big armoire that stood against the back wall. Some thumping and a mumbled, "Where, where are my boots?" 

Jim looked over to the mat below the coat rack. "Chief?" 

"Wait, Jim, looking for my boots." 

"Not going to find them in there." 

"Just give me a sec." 

"Chief, they are not in there." 

Blair leaned back out of the armoire. "What?" 

Jim pointed wordlessly to the mat near the outer door. Blair stepped to the office doorway and glanced where Jim pointed. "Oh. Right." And in a scurry he raced to the boots and hopped on one foot as he pulled the left boot on. "Thanks." 

* * *

Over the next week, Blair was out late three more times and each time he came home with someone else's scent on him. It was, however, a different scent than the one Jim had perceived the first time. Then there were a series of phone calls that Blair took in his old bedroom and a conversation with H. at the black detective's desk that stopped abruptly when Jim came into Major Crimes. The Sentinel pushed the thoughts of what it all might mean as far into his subconscious as possible and got on with work at the PD and his Christmas preparations. Whatever was going to happen would happen too soon. He did not want to think about it. 

The Christmas gathering went off well. Lots of good food and relaxed company. No disasters if you did not count the fizzing of champagne over the kitchen floor when Darryl shook the bottle before it was opened. Everyone was very mellow by the end of the day with the fellowship of being with good friends. That or droopy from overeating. 

Or both. 

This year as they sprawled around the loft after the meal, they spent some time reflecting on the last year and all the changes in their lives. Darryl's entry to university. Blair's doctorate. Simon's new lady friend. Joel's move to Major Crimes. Jim's promotion to Lieutenant. Megan's permanent appointment to the PD. Some tough times too but they had come through stronger and closer to each other. It was good to be with friends. 

As evening fell, their guests headed for home. Megan was grinning at Jim and he could not figure out why. Not that slightly leering, knowing smile. It was definitely not a mellowed out, sated by the meal smile. 

"Connor, you eat the canary?" 

"Jimbo, that was turkey. Not enough meat on a canary to bother with." 

"No, I mean, what are you grinning at? And you know that was what I meant. You have been here long enough to understand American slang expressions. You can't get away with that 'I'm just an Aussie far from home ' bit any more." 

She laughed. "Caught! You have a good evening, boys. Good night." 

"'night, Megan" Blair called from the kitchen, a small frown on his face. Jim caught her mouthing 'sorry' at his roommate before she darted out the door. 

Together, they finished cleaning up. As Jim pulled a couple of bottles of spring water out of the fridge, Blair stood near the couch, moving from foot to foot and shoving back the lock of hair that kept falling over his forehead. He took the bottle of water Jim passed him but did not join the big cop on the couch. 

"Umm, Jim, there is something I need to." 

A sudden clenching of his stomach and Jim's hands tightened on the plastic bottle. Thank God Blair had waited until after their Christmas dinner for this. 

"I have to." Blair ran into his old bedroom and came out with a large envelope and an audio tape. "I hope you understand. I am really nervous about this but I guess you know me well enough to know that and it really is important that you understand where I am coming from with this, you know, that it is not meant ." 

Jim's voice was low and serious. "Just spit it out, Blair." 

"Oh, ok. I just have to set this up." 

Dear Heaven, Jim thought, he recorded this? 

Though the tape was in the machine, Blair did not turn it on. Fidgeting with the envelope, he cleared his throat. "You know that tonight is the first anniversary of our getting together as a couple. It has been an incredible year. I never thought I ever would be in a relationship long enough to celebrate an anniversary. Kind of spooked me a bit when I realized that a few weeks ago." 

Jim stared up at Blair's face, memorizing the way his mouth moved when he spoke, the way the light glinted in the hairnow shorter than it was a year ago, the way his eyes spoke before his mouth did. 

"So, I .here, just open it." He extended the envelope to Jim. 

The Sentinel hesitated before reaching out to take it. When he sat staring at the envelope in his long fingers, Blair made opening gestures to encourage him. Slipping one long finger in the flap, Jim ripped the envelope open. What was this? He pulled out the legal sized document, back page face up and slowly turned it over. 

And nearly dropped it. 

The cover showed two nearly nude Blairs, one sitting on the floor in a diaper and the other with a long grey beard standing with an hour glass in one hand. Across the top was the title, Anno Secundus. 

Jim blinked, looked from the object in his hand to Blair and back again. "Wha'?" 

"Do you like it?" 

"What is it?" 

"A calendar!" Blair turned and started the tape he had set up. Immediately the loft was filled with the sound of electric guitars and a sax playing a familiar tune. Then he heard someone singing. 

"I love, I love, I love my calendar man  
Yeah, sweet calendar man  
I love, I love, I love my calendar man.  
Each and every day of the year. 

(January) You start the year off fine  
(February) You're my big buff valentine  
(March) I wanna march you down the aisle  
(April) You're the Easter Bunny when you smile " 

"That's not Neil Sedaka. That's you!!!" 

A mega-watt grin. "Yup. The band is the one H is in. He and his buddies helped out. Did the music and the backup singing. Don't they sound great? Open the calendar, man!" 

"What? Oh, yeah." Jim flipped the calendar to January. There, in all his resplendent naked glory was his Blair, a silly hat on his head and a noisemaker in his hand. It appeared as if he was at a big party, all sort of folk dressed to the nines in the background. 

Jim growled, "What party is this? Who are those people?" 

A laugh. "Didn't he do a great job. You would really think I was in that room." 

"You aren't?" 

A 'get real' look. "Nooo. You are the only one who gets to see me like this." 

A rumbled, "I better be." Jim turned more pages. 

Each month had a different pose, relevant to the season. In every one, Blair was naked and posed provocatively. Jim almost lost it over the bunny ears and fluffy tail for April. That reaction was nothing when he came across a fully erect Blair painted red, white and blue for July and a wanton Blair spread out among fruit, vegetables and grain for November. Blair had to help hold the calendar by that time; Jim's hands were shaking so much. 

As he finished looking at a picture of Blair decked out as a present under a glorious Christmas tree, a small red bow on his jutting penis, Jim had pulled Blair into his lap and was nuzzling behind his lover's ear and making noises of a definitely animal nature. The Sentinel's hands were moving determinedly down Blair's body. 

Blair tried to talk but was having trouble. "So...umm, oh. you like.oh, God.like the calendar?" 

Jim grunted his agreement. 

"Greaaaat.oh, yes, yes, there.it took rather.again, yes, yes.ahhh.rather a long time to doooo! Jimmm, oh yes.Andrew had to set uppppp!!! .each set and we couldn't doooo awww.more than one shot a night." 

Jim stopped his explorations and sat up. "Andrew?" 

"Yah, Megan told me about him. Normally he does those boudoir shots women get for their husbands or lovers. He liked the idea of a calendar and plans to add that to his services." 

"Was that who I smelled on you?" 

"Smelled?" 

"That night you came home so late you slept down here." 

"Oh yeah, the last shoot. We hugged." At Jim's frown, "I was totally dressed, James. Even had my coat on. Just a thank you hug. Andrew's SO was right there the whole time. They are so in love. I was just an substitute for themselves, being posed for nice pictures. So.you like it?" 

"Yes. Very much. Going to hang it up over my desk." 

Blair looked startled. "Ah, Jim, isn't that.wouldn't that be against Department rules.naked pictures displayed in an office setting? And really, I would never be able to go back there again." 

"Sandburg, my desk upstairs? Next to our bed?" 

"Oh, yeah. Great idea." A grin. "Kind of a sexual aid?" 

Jim flipped Blair onto his back and leaned onto him. "What are you suggesting, Sandburg!" 

Hands held up in surrender, "Nothing man! I would never imply that you need sexual aids!" 

"Is that all you have to say?" 

"No. Man, your testosterone levels are off the scale. As you have proved to me many times." 

"Better." He pulled Blair up into his arms. "I think it is getting late and we need to get to bed." His voice dropped half an octave. "You ready for bed, Chief?" 

"Bed with you? Always, man." He drew one of Jim's hands onto his crotch. "Always up for you." 

Jim laughed and gently caressed the burgeoning arousal he felt. "Let's go, my sweet calendar boy." 

  * A slight revision of Calendar Girl, with apologies and appreciation for the songwriters, N.Sedaka and H.Greenfield. 



* * *

End

 


End file.
